Son of Scathach
by X-kalibuuuur
Summary: Prince of shadows, born of the old blood. What would happen if Scathach finally found a purpose in living? How would the prince change Fate? The story now starts, in the time of ancient Celtic rules. Slightly Bloodborne-like(Lovecraftian) world. Rated M for future, bloody combat.
1. Chapter 1 Birth of a unknown hero

Son of Scathach

Chapter 1 Birth of an unknown hero

Scathach, queen of shadows, god slayer, the red death, she was called. Oh, yes, she had a lot of other intimidating names indeed.

As a matter of fact, almost countless names were, in her prime. Warriors she had under her tutelage all grown to become the most ferocious of heroes. The most devious of creatures trembled at the mere syllable of her name. Kings and queens bowed under her gaze.

But, it seemed, she had a problem. A _baby _problem.

"Sherron, WHERE ARE YOU!? MOMMY'S HERE!"

Yes, Scathach was rather pissed. Oh, this may prove to be a mild understatement.

"WHERE ARE YOU!?"

She was downright terrified. This itself is more than enough to send kingdoms into a panic. When a fearless witch that transcended humanity by killing gods is scared, you might turn out to be the dumbest person on the globe to think things aren't somehow _seriously fucked up_.

If you had some decent knowledge about the great Scathach, you will be curious about how on earth does Scathach have a baby. What man can be so suicidal to give Scathach a baby?

To explain this mess, we have to go back a few years, where this all began….

FLASHBACK (FEW YEARS AGO)

A golden carriage was rumbling along a moon-lit, unpaved and stony path at extraordinary speeds, its wheels creaking and moaning, as if protesting it might come apart at any minute.

There were two bulls leading the carriage, incredibly muscular and huge, mighty and towering. A phantasmal beast: the direct descendant of the Cretan bull, three times taller than a normal bull and a hundred times stronger, a dangerous breed which originates from ancient Greek.

Normally, this kind of beast would never be exhausted, much less afraid. But now, these mighty bulls were shaking in fear and panting in exhaustion. The reason was by no means, far behind.

A gargantuan monster was there, blocking the moonlight and splitting the clouds with a simple roar. A monster that even gods feared. Those monsters were called a great one. And a very angry great one, the thing turned out to be.

Tall as a skyscraper and large as several baseball stadiums connected together, the brute crushed everything in its path, the very earth crumbling beneath its body.

Its name was Kreed, the overlord of Oceanus, monarch of the waves and storms, the terrible earth shaker. Poseidon would have pissed in his pants.

It looked like something suspiciously close to a shark that had gone under some bizarre cyborg surgery. It had stygian metallic plates covering most of its body, veins alike volcanic cracks running along its entire surface, and tower-like crimson spikes protruding from every nook and cranny.

This monster seemed content on killing every single soul around, swimming through mountains as easily as through waves, its golden pupil-less eyes filled with insanity, locked onto the gorgeous carriage.

A lady was in the carriage, with a small baby bundled in white cloth, her magnificent pink hair in disarray, her white princess-like snow white attire ruffled up, her perfectly balanced body tensed up in fear for her child. The lady clutched the soon-to-be-infant close to her bosom, cradling the wailing baby and cooing.

"My baby, my love. My most precious jewel in this whole world. I do hope so much, so much that I could be by your side. Watch you grow up. Watch your life. Be in your life, always by your side. Oh, how I wish I could be there to scare off your girlfriends, to be there when you have your first child."

She kissed her baby lightly on the lips, her own red lips quivering and blackish eyes watering, the tears threatening to break out.

She took off from her wedding finger, a silver ring with ancient runes etched into the metal, with exorbitant, but tiny grains of diamond engraved into the very runes itself. It shone in the darkness like a dying sun, threads of light like silver comets, dancing around the circular metal, like moths to a flame.

She took out a long needle, the same length of her middle finger, and stabbed it deep into her chest, without the slightest hesitation. She gasped in pain, slowly pulling the needle from her still-beating heart with trembling fingers, eyes on her baby all the while.

She held the needle above her ring, letting only a single drop of ruby-colored blood fall. The drop of blood was drained instantly into the runes, turning it into pure gold as if Midas blessed it with his touch.

Ripping off her silver-chain necklace, she looped the ring into it and tied the chained ring firmly around her baby's neck.

"May this ring always be with you, my light. May this be my very soul, my very life. May this ring ward off all the worlds evil."

Another ear-splitting roar shook the entire land. It is time. She must leave to ensure her baby's safety. She WILL ensure his safety, no matter what.

Any other day, she would have been absolutely terrified, paralyzed by fear. But, no not tonight.

She was no longer the woman who had love with many heroes. She is a mother. And mothers are strong.

"Farewell, my child. Fret not, I will take care of the monster."

She halted and took a deep breath. The words she was about to spout were words she had said to countless heroes.

But this time, it was special.

"I love you, Sherron."

With the last words being said, she leaped out of the still moving carriage, her eyes still hovering over the place her child, as if ushering her royal bulls to run faster.

Another menacing, earth-saving roar shook the air itself.

She was afraid, but not for her life. The witch shall be here soon, she thought.

'All I need is to buy enough time.'

She held up her head high and flashed out a smile. A sadistic, blood-thirsty smile of the renowned war-queen.

Her tiara let forth a brilliant rainbow-colored beam, striking the beast right in its eye and catching its attention.

"Hey, big guy! Wanna play this rough?"

A deep growl emanated from the monster, a rumble so deep, it was as if giant boulders were being crushed against one another.

"Rough it is, then! Alright, I'll keep you satisfied! What do you say to that, eh, hot stuff?"

The beast let forth another deafening roar, and crimson spikes the size of almost two men, started bombarding the land like heavy rain.

The queen grimaced.

'I hope my blood wouldn't dry up too quickly', she thought.

"Ah, Cainhurst, my cursed blood, flow as thy may, for Yharnam is thy queen."

Countless heroes rose from the dust, as blood flew from her punctured heart. It was truly a grand sight, as men battled against the impossible.

But impossible is impossible, and the great ones are the very definition of that fact.

A dog cannot kill a dragon, but a dragon can easily squash a dog.

A FEW HOURS LATER

Her army was gone, her body devoid of blood. But, did any of that mattered? Her baby is safe. And now, at last, the heroine arrives.

'About time.' She thought bitterly. 'If only she had arrived sooner.'

Despite her bitter thoughts, the battle that occurred was breathtaking, to say the very least.

A void opened in the sky, as a humungous iron gate with intricate designs opened, and countless spells and curses flew through.

Although the warriors and mages of the land of shadows may prove to be too weak in direct combat against a great one, they could cast magic via portal/gate.

Of course, there were a seldom few that could encounter a great one directly. The god-slayer Scathach, of course.

Oh, it was such glorious battle to behold, even in the nearly dead warrior queens' eyes. Shadows dashed across the starry sky, gigantic explosions here and there, the spikes of the beast turned against itself as thorns.

After what it seemed like hours, the beast fell, being subjected into a deep slumber, as all great ones do.

The battle was won. The world was calm once more, and the greats one subdued into sleep.

Scathach walked over to the queen, unable to fathom why she had used her life to weaken the beast. The warrior queen was a very selfish woman, so it doesn't make any sense in her noble act of self-sacrifice.

But before she could ask anything, the pink-haired woman opened her mouth.

"My son, please, I beg of you. SAVE HIM. Please, be his mother."

Scathach stopped thinking.

'A son? Her child? But, then, how…, the child must surely carry the lineage of the ancients, the old blood…. This is really serious.'

The pink-haired woman raised a weak hand and grasped Scathach's boots.

"Please, my son, my little Sharron. My last wish. My hope. The power against the great ones flows deep in his veins…, take him in as your warrior if you wish, but please…, my baby needs a mother, you…."

Scathach furrowed her brows at the last request. There it is again, the bizarre wish of Scathach being her boy's mother.

"Why me? We have a lot of women whom have had the privilege of taking wonderful care of children. Why me?"

The dying woman gasped out the words with a rapidly fading breath,

"Because you are the strongest. As much as I fear you, I trust in your …, battle prowess, and, the kindness, in your heart."

Scathach's eyebrows shot up. What did the women just say?!

"P-Please. I beg of you…."

Scathach looked into the eyes of the dying women and sighed. All there was left, was the ferocious, undying flame of love for her child, even in her dying breath.

She didn't have much choice, did she?

"Very well, I accept"

Scathach said the words as curtly as she could, nodding her head firmly.

The eyelids of the warrior queen closed, a peaceful smile on her face.

"Thank…, you…."

She took one last breath, and stilled.

Scathach signaled her men to bring her the baby, and sighed deeply.

"No, I thank you. You have given me a purpose, aside from dying."

With that, Scathach turned and left, her purplish-black hair billowing in the night breeze.

The full moon shone on her and the baby, as she took the frail thing from her men, cradling it to sleep with utmost care.

A smile was on her face, as the gentle rays illuminated the baby, her son.

"Let us head home, shall we? My little prince of shadows."


	2. Chapter 2 Behold

**Thank you for reading! This is my first fanfic attempt, so please be gentle!**

** Constructive criticism is always welcome!**

Son of Scathach

Chapter 2 Behold, for he is our prince

Oh, where was I? Ah, yes yes.

The fateful night when our little boy became Scathach's son.

Our little boy right now is cradled in the arms of our beloved queen of shadows, her smile radiant-which sent some of her disciples right into dreamland.

Not because the smile was terrifying, of course. It was just _such a rare occasion, _it resulted in giving them the false realization that they had somehow _fucked up_.

And whenever they_ fucked up, _they somehow find their manhood…, _bleeding. _Literally, that is. The pain is mutual.

Anyway, that is why it became a very strange habit, or ceremony, if you might call it, to kneel down on the floor while giving their best efforts in protecting their family jewels, when potentially angry Scathach walks by.

Luckily for them, Scathach was in a very good mood, so she walked on without even sparing a single glance at the ridiculous sight in front of her. Her attention was completely focused on talking with the giggling baby she held so dearly in her arms.

"You adorable thing, you love mommy so much, don't you, mhnn?"

The dumbfounded faces of her students followed her even after she strode out of their sight. Their expression soon turned into something akin to horror, mixed with undeniable awe.

A certain blue haired, red eyed guy with a ponytail sprung up and shouted.

"Seriously?! Some dick managed to give master a good ol'crea-"

A shadow danced nearby, and he was _smashed through several thick brick walls_ and right into the ocean below, before he could even finish his vile sentence.

"NO vulgar words near my child. Understood?"

A witch from their worst nightmares was somehow standing right in front of them. None even knew what caused the blue guy to take a joy ride through concrete walls-until now, that is.

Thus, they did the most logical thing possible.

They shut up. And took off.

SEVERAL LONG HOURS LATER

A huge crowd of people was gathering in front of the royal palace gates of shadows. Every single person seemed very excited about what was about to happen.

"Look! There is our queen!" A man shouted.

Yes, there she was. Scathach, in her full glory.

On her usual black skin-tight combat attire, there was a purplish cloak with snow-white fur around the base of her neck, and thousands of golden lines fabricated into shape-shifting runes. On her head, there was a silver tiara with an oval ruby in the middle, almost symmetry to her pupils.

But what made the people stutter and babble, was not that. Oh no, it definitely wasn't.

She also wore a thin golden-chain necklace with scarlet fangs strung through it._ That _was what made the people astonished. You see, there was a tradition for women of royalty to wear the _exact same necklace_ when she had born her first child.

The golden chains were meant to ward off evil and chain her baby's soul with hers, and when said baby is a boy, scarlet fangs were strung through the necklace in the hope said boy would grow into a ferocious warrior.

Scathach smiled at her people gathered under her palace balcony. She took a deep breath and raised her hand.

The cheers died almost immediately.

She raised her baby bundled in white silk, and spoke.

"Behold, my people. Behold this magnificent soul in front of thine eyes. Behold, for he shalt be our light in shadows."

Her words traveled through the people's hearts like the scorching desert winds, igniting something deep within.

"BEHOLD."

Every eye was set on the small bundle, raised high against the sky.

"FOR HE IS OUR PRINCE."

The crowd went wild.

"A prince! ALL HAIL THE PRINCE! ALL HAIL THE PRINCE! ALL HAIL THE PRINCE!"

The chant went on and on, shaking the land of shadows down to its core.

"ALL HAIL THE PRINCE!"

**How was this? Yes, short chapter, I know.**


	3. Chapter 3 Bloodborne

**Since chapter 2 is somewhat short, I decided on adding another chapter. **

** Thank you for reading and reviews! Criticism is welcomed.**

Son of Scathach

Chapter 3 Bloodborne

Since she had finished declaring her son as the prince of shadows, her true heir, she had to face some grave problems.

'How on earth do I feed a baby, how should I take care of one?' she wondered.

Of course, she had a lot of servants at her disposal, several of them who are very skilled and experienced in taking care of children. Of course, she could order them to take care of her son, she was a queen after all.

But, NO. Absolutely not. She had to admit, the baby had already wormed himself into her soul, inseparable by any means.

She looked into the eyes of her baby she cradled in her arms.

Dark and bloody crimson colored eyes, with a thin shape-shifting stream of goldish orange, encasing the entire pupil. Like flames, oppressing the darkness, she thought. Like a dwindling flame, embracing the darkness inside.

Sign of an ancient curse and blessing, a sign of the old blood. Sign of the hollow, sign of the beast, sign of the cosmos itself.

'This baby', she realized with dawning horror, 'Carries the bloodline of the first flame _and_ the dark. The very first of humans, whom made forbidden power their own.'

She felt an involuntary shiver run down her spine.

'You should control him, brainwash him. Use any means possible to keep the ancient blood in check. He is too close to his ancestors, too powerful, too much potential.', a traitorous, cold-blooded part of her whispered.

'NO! NEVER!' she countered, 'He is my child, and no matter how inhuman he may grow to be, I shall always be his mother.'

'An oath, a promise I shall not tread upon because of some cautious cowardice.', she concluded with a huff.

'Besides, I'm already inhuman enough.', she scoffed.

'The problem is, how on earth is he so powerful? Is it just a coincidence? Just a mere form of heredity, atavism, perhaps?'

'No' she countered herself, 'To reawaken his blood to this extent, takes much more than mere reversion.'

Scathach shook her head in frustration, her hair flowing graciously in the air.

'Who is his father?'

She stopped abruptly. Why on earth did she not realize this, an answer so obvious!

"That was why she slept with so many heroes!", she said aloud.

Of course, the ancient ritual of Cainhurst. An attempt to revive the Pthumerun blood. Or, to be precise, the old blood from the age of fire. A blood ritual to use the memories of countless heroes as a forge, a forge to create the strongest of weapons. A warrior born of blood.

"The blood from countless heroes, her family must have kept this ritual going on for centuries!"

'They must be very happy', she thought grimly, 'Now my son will live a very hard life. A very challenging one indeed, for he is their masterpiece, born of blood.'

'A Bloodborne.'

"Whaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaagh!"

The cries of her baby cut through her thoughts as a hot knife against butter.

'Damn the blood, I need to be a mother right now!", she sighed mentally.

This might prove to be the the biggest trial yet.


	4. Chapter 4 To be a Mother

**Thanks for reading! I might get busy, so I'm not sure if I can continue this quick update pace. Of course, I'll finish this story, so no plans for abandoning this!**

Son of Scathach

Chapter 4 To be a Mother

Lo, and behold, our favorite wall-smashing toddler._ Literally, _that is.

A year has passed since Scathach had taken Sharron under her wing, and she was surprised by the tiny thing from day one.

As a matter of fact, as soon as Scathach learned how to breastfeed him and change his diapers, the stoic mother was left with her jaw swinging wide.

Yes, no joke. She was numb with a pleasant surprise when she found out her one-year-old baby was very capable of…, numerous feats.

The first surprise was, Sharron didn't cry when he wanted to be fed. He _called_.

"Mommy, Mommy, Mama!"

She was love-struck by the cute voice, and the way Sharron threw his chubby arms and feet around when he found out her answering his calls. It didn't help when his eyes sparkled with pure innocence and affection, akin to a loyal puppy.

'He is just adorable!' She gasped mentally, 'If only cuteness was a crime, I would have surely already locked him up in the deepest of cells.'

Among her servants, where there was a large share of immortals among the group, such as nature spirits, was actually sent giddy by her happiness. Spirits get affected by strong emotions and environments including magical energy, so Scathach proved to be a powerful source of influence.

And affect the spirits she did. Whenever Sharron needed his overly eager mother, the spirits would start dancing and singing with the vigor of a drunken opera singer. To be specific, the whole castle knew when Sharron's feeding time just by the clamor.

Anyway, the point was, he learned fairly quickly.

The second surprise was, he started running at the age of one. Running at insane speeds for a toddler, that is.

Sharron was 1 year old, and normal 1-year-old does NOT run around at the speeds of a full-grown mortal man. Sharron was definitely NOT your typical toddler by any means.

Nor does a normal one-year-old climb out of his own room through a _fucking window_, a window that is 1 meter up to the ground.

That is the reason why Scathach was terrified at the beginning of this tale. Yes, past tense. Her naughty baby was captured by an all too willing hound, in the name of Setanta. Or the world shall now in the future as, the great Cu Chulainn.

But right now, he was just another poor disciple trying to amend for his past mistakes (the one which ended up with his ass blasted through several thick walls).

"Master, I found the boy for ya!" he boasted with his head up high. "He was in the royal garden right under your room!"

Sadly, she was too worried about her baby to thank him properly or acknowledge him, but she did give him a nod while snatching a wriggling Sharron from his arms.

'At least I was forgiven, right? That counts.' the poor hound thought.

A FEW MINUTES LATER

"Where in the shadows have you been!? Do you have any idea how worried I was!?" she scolded the prince while seating him on her lap.

He received several small rashes and bruises on his small adventure, so she attended to it once they reached their bedroom, ignoring the offers of help her best medics gave her.

'What if some beast has attacked? What if he had an accident, and was severely injured as a result? What if…?'

Her hands shook slightly at the worst possible outcome. NO, it would not happen. _Never _will it happen on her watch.

"Mama, sorry, mama. Mama, love, outside. Mama." Sharron looked up at his mother with watering puppy-eyes. He reached into his garment with his chubby hands, revealing a single red spider lily in his tiny grasp.

The lily was Scathach's favorite, so she usually kept a vase of it in the bedroom she shared with Sharron.

'Why would Sharron go outside for this?' Scathach thought as confusion hit her for an instant. The answer made itself clear on second glance.

This lily was unlike any other. It had a silver pearl in the midst of its stamen, an extremely rare phenomenon that only happens in the land of shadows. It is said to be the crystallized form of the love of the deceased, formed from the purest energy of undying devotion.

Setanta's voice reached out from her memories. '_He was in the royal garden right under your room!' _he had told her.

'Sharron went outside to the gardens, just for this lily to surprise me!' she realized with a jolt.

"All to get this single flower, for…me?" she whispered out loud.

"Mama!" Sharron bobbed his head while glancing up at his mother's face.

Scathach rarely showed raw human-like emotions, especially strong, vulnerable ones. This was one of the very rare times she showed it.

Scathach, cried.

She cried silently, as a young maiden does. It has been so long since she has cried. A millennium or more? She didn't care.

All those endless years wore down on her, making her more and more emotionless, her routine of seeking powerful enemies being the only valid method of feeling alive. Her hopes of dying as a mortal, was one of her attempts to retrieving what she had already long lost.

Scathach, for the first time in thousands of years, felt healed in her heart. She found herself healed by the precious, innocent thing she held close to her heart.

She felt warm, alive.

On this day, Scathach truly became a mother.

** How was it? Please review!**


	5. Chapter 5 The Hunt Begins

**Last chapter for this week! Please review and like! Thank you all for reading!**

Son of Scathach

Chapter 5 The Hunt Begins

After the small incident which moved Scathach so dearly, she was transformed. She smiled more, walked with an additional bounce to her heels, and hummed when nobody was nearby.

Her students were first terrified as always, but soon came to realize that she WAS actually happy. They fell to their knees in gratitude for the miracle their young prince had cast upon their queen.

Time flew by as our baby grew up to be a young boy. 10 years has passed since he came to the land of shadows, his baby fat growing into bone and muscle, hints of masculine beauty already showing through his handsome features.

Setanta grew to be his best friend, almost like an elder brother.

They used to spar bare-handed when Scathach wasn't training Sharron, fishing together by the raging ocean, eating food- phantasmal beasts they hunted- _raw_ (Setanta was later ass-kicked by Scathach for teaching her son bad habits), and play with gae-bolgs( Sharron once nearly shoved his spear up Setanta's ass by accident).

When Setanta was busy, he spent his time practicing runes, perfecting them to every single edge. He also liked reading about magic in the library or walking in town just for fun.

And fun it was, at least for Setanta and the other disciples watching from the sidelines.

Girls swooned as he walked in town, every female eye trying to catch his attention. When his ash-colored hair billowed in the wind, his head held up high, his steps sturdy yet firm, men and women cheered at the mighty sight.

To put a long story short, his charisma was somehow addictive.

Somehow, one person was unhappy about him being popular with girls. The person was, none the other, our great Scathach!

Scathach had grown to be quite the protective mother in these 10 years. The powerful enemies she once sought out all over the globe in the frail hope of somehow ending her, turned into a method of becoming more powerful in order to protect her son.

So, it was no small wonder she was found fuming in annoyance at the girls throwing handkerchiefs, or, in some rare cases, their underwear at her son.

Oh no, she was NOT amused. As a matter of fact, she was livid enough to even consider whether or not to make a new law to prevent those hussies from seducing her precious baby.

"Sharron is mine!" she said with a drip of venom in her voice. Mama Yandere would have been proud.

Anyway, those peaceful(?) days continued- until the fateful day Sharron faced his heritage.

Every ten years, there will be a week-long festival whereas mortals or immortals alike, go hunting phantasmal beasts that harm people around the world.

A week, where the world would be shrouded by night.

A week, where a dim-lit world would make its presence known.

A pale-blood colored moon would signal the start of the hunt, for it is then the monsters grew most vicious. Howls and cries would echo through the night sky, filling every weak soul with fear and dread. Most civilians called the week-long night, 'The hunt'.

Then why would anyone sane call this a festival? What madness is this?

The reason it was called a festival was because the Celts were…, very _spartan_, one would call them. They viewed monster slaying as a privilege, a treat for the strong, thus naming a live-or-die-date with monsters as a festival. Long story short, they were berserkers.

On the fateful night, Sharron was very excited, as a young boy trained by the fearsome queen of shadows should be.

He wore an attire almost identical to his mother, a skin-tight, black leather-like combat suit suspiciously close to spandex on his body, a half face mask that covered his lower face beneath his eyes. Only two things were different.

One, the big ring on his right middle finger. The ring that was with him since his birth, the silver ring with intricate runes alit by a pulsing golden glow- akin to a bonfire, warming his soul.

Second, the silver armor covering his left hand up to his shoulder. Sharron smiled as he flexed out his left hand, a satisfying metallic _Ka-shiiing_ sound greeting his ears. His hidden blade in its full splendor, revealed under the starry sky. A crimson-blood colored blade, a blade that gives off trails of red ember-like wisps in the dark. The blade sprung forth from its sheath hidden under his wrist, confined into the armor.

The blade itself was forged by the hands of his mother, molded from an alloy which consists of ancient meteoric iron dug from ruins, and the hardest horn ripped from the mighty Kreed.

The armor along with the spring mechanisms was forged by the very best smiths in the land of shadows, and the completed set enchanted by …a shut-in half-fairy by the name of Merlin.

The last part of the procedure left him quite worried, despite his mother assuring him, quote: 'A sorry excuse of a womanizer he is, though it pains me to admit it, at the very least, skilled in enchantment.'.

All in all, Sharron struck an intimidating figure with his attire and inhuman eyes; golden-ringed pupils with scarlet-iris, evident in the dark. His ash-grey hair was wrapped up into a coiled bun behind his head, leaving only two thick strands of hair on both sides to cup his face.

He stood with an air of dominance bent with self-confidence, his sight focused on the gloomy moon-lit world stretched in front of him.

'Now is the time to prove myself as a prince.', he thought. 'The chance to make mother proud, to let her know I am capable of taking care of myself.'

Sharron knew his mother was, _is_…overprotective, to phrase it in a rather mild way. She seemed to be terrified of losing him, even on safe occasions.

'I'll show mother that I cannot be harmed by some random monster!' he swore mentally.

Sharron was no idiot in any way, but he failed to realize one thing.

Scathach was scared for a reason. She knew her son's lineage was NO pushover, something NOT to be seen lightly. She knew the monsters of the deep would awaken, craving for the sheer power of his blood.

Scathach knew _they_ would come for her son.

SOMEWHERE FAR AWAY

In a humungous cave filled with mist and the twinkle of crystals, an eye opened.

A white, scaleless dragon, lifted its head. It sniffed the air, once, twice, and roared.

Trickles of crystallized dust fell from the ceiling, the mist momentarily blown apart before filling the cave, obscuring the strange dragon from sight once more.

"ABOUT TIME."

It chuckled with a gruff, mirthless voice. Cold, calculating, like a bottomless, dark sea.

"TO THINK I WOULD MEET YOU ONCE MORE, IN A DIFFERENT ERA, IN A DIFFERENT SPACE. TROUGH THAT YOUNG BODY OF YOUR BLOODLINE, I SENSE YOUR SOUL."

The dragon lifted his head and glanced at his severed tail. Proof, that he had lost to a mere human. Proof, that he failed in achieving true immortality. Proof, of his lost power.

"THIS TIME, I SHALL PLUCK THE FLOWER BEFORE IT SPROUTS. THIS TIME, I SHALL ACHIEVE TRUE IMMORTALITY."

The dragon opened his mouth wide, letting forth a mighty beam of light which tore through the fabric of reality, the wall separating the strongest of phantasmal beasts from the surface world. The world where humanity rules. The world of Alaya.

The world that damned human created.

The great dragon opened his wings wide, crystallized energy rampaging through the cave, creating enough force for him to struggle through the boundaries of reality.

Silence returned to the now empty cave. A fissure spread through the wall, chunks of crystallized rock falling from the ceiling, the earth itself caving in.

The whole cave collapsed on itself with a thundering rumble, the unearthly glow from the crystals dimming, leaving only darkness in its wake.

**How was this? Let me know! **

**Oh yes, the Assassin's Blade made its first appearance! **


	6. Chapter 6 Gae Kreed

**The story for next week! The updates for the next few weeks might turn out to be slow-paced. **

**Criticism is always welcome! **

Son of Scathach

Chapter 6 The Blood Echoes Within

Scathach was furious.

She paced back and forth in her throne room, her heels cracking the tiles underneath.

"M'lady, please calm yourself! I'm sure our young lord would be in no danger! He is the most talented in the land, even among your direct disciples! Surely our Lord will know what monster is too dangerous and what is not!"

'NO! HE IS NOT SAFE!' Scathach bellowed in her mind, but the praise to her son managed to leave some ease in her heart. She was_ that _blind when it comes to parental love.

She turned towards her students, every single one a fearsome warrior, gathered before her.

"Go find my son, and do NOT return until you bring him back!"

Setanta clicked his tongue in dismay, shaking his head while sighing.

'Do be safe, little bro. I would hate to be the one to bring your corpse back.'

He knew Sharron was more than capable in battle prowess and strategy, but he also knew that his master was worried for a reason. A grave reason, by the looks of it.

An uncomfortable sensation crawled on his back, his stomach lurching- a bad omen.

'Be safe, Sharron. I beg of you, be safe.', the loyal hound prayed for the boy.

The boy, he came to admit as family. The boy, he loved as a brother.

'Be safe.'

IN A FAR AWAY FOREST

Sharron was furious.

It didn't help that a thick mist obscured his sight, while some idiot nine-headed hydra was drenching him with acid water. Oh, it didn't help at all.

"Fuck.", he muttered as he dodged a gigantic tail which erupted from the ground underneath him, like some scaly volcanic blast.

"This damn reptile just doesn't know when to quit."

His answer was another hail of toxic, hyper-pressurized cannons.

They landed with steamy explosions, rotting every single tree in Sharron's sight. That meant _hundreds_, since he could still see a lot through his mist-obscured eyes.

'This is getting nowhere.' he clenched his teeth in annoyance, 'Every time I near him he just slithers away from reach.'

A head smashed down from above with the velocity of a lightning bolt, desecrating everything in a hundred-meter radius.

'A complete hit-and-away strategy.' he concluded, as he leaped back in to land a stab on its head with his hidden blade, only to cut the air.

'A vacillating measure for a creature so powerful, but villainous enough considering its superb poison.'

He swerved through another hail of death, spotting a tree in the distance, big enough to stand out among the others.

'I need a counter-strategy.'

Sharron dashed up the giant tree, bursting through the canopy of leaves and into the welcoming moonlight.

He scanned at the direction where the water cannons came from, glimpsing something half-transparent, a meddlesome sapphire-scaled hydra with camouflage abilities.

"At last! A clear view.", he chuckled with glee. "That means a clean shot!"

He drew with his right finger a summoning rune, the very same rune he imprinted onto a certain birthday present he received at the age of 5.

An arcane glow lit his right side, as dots of blue mana as whirled around, materializing into a stygian spear.

The spear looked almost identical to Gae Bolg in shape and size, only half a foot longer, the main difference in its texture. The metallic stygian color came from its ingredients, the broken pieces of the Kreed's exoskeleton.

So indestructible it was, it took 4 years just to liquify it in the depths of an active volcano of hellfire, and an entire year to forge it into an enchanted spear. _That _was the actual reason it was gifted to him on his fifth birthday.

Of course, a dangerous task such as fishing liquified exoskeleton from an active volcano of hellfire could have only be done by the queen herself. Actually, she acquired the knowledge of forging just for this spear, which proved to be worth it, since it helped her greatly with the hidden blade.

That was one of the reasons it became Sharron's signature weapon. The other reason was…the sheer destructive power.

He twirled the spear, a weapon longer and heavier than his own body with practiced ease, setting his sight on the hydra a few miles away.

Yes, a few_ miles_ away. A hydra that can use his _tail_ to attack from a_ mile_ away. Hercules would've been proud.

The hydra's eyes, as big as a bull, met his own.

Sharron took a deep breath, pulling his right arm as far back as humanly possible. A vacuum of immensely coiled, pent-up energy appeared, drowning the moonlight in the sky, and encased the entire spear.

Wisps of mana that were sucked into the dark vortex of pure force, soon turned into tendrils, then into great flows of light, robing the very forest of its life.

The very space around the weapon tore and warped, as if unable to sustain its frail matter of reality. The light was sucked in, creating a pitch-black void in the shape of a spear.

Sharron felt a vicious, sadistic smile forcing his lips open, exposing the ferine teeth underneath.

"Exterminate my foes, dust to dust, ashes to ash. Never will you flee, nor will you hide, so give up your soul for me, open wide."

The Hydra shot nine massive cannons of exploding toxic straight at Sharron, as if sensing the undeniable hands of death.

"Your end draws nigh, so sing my hollow lullaby."

The nine cannons _evaporated_ before it could even get near.

A baleful chorus of ghostly wails tormented the night sky, as an arcane tornado of mana lifted the prince of shadows up and up, his presence accentuated in the absence of moonlight.

"Devour if you would, for that is our curse."

The tornado dissipated, revealing the prince holding a gigantic spear of dimensional force, utterly devoid, like the abyss.

"GAE KREED"

Two words were spoken. Spoken softly, almost a whisper.

The world was ripped apart.

Sound left. Color left. Smell left. Touch left. Taste left.

Everything warped, frozen in black and white.

Then, the world came back to life.

A deafening explosion shook the land, a white supernova blinded everything.

Slowly, Sharron opened his eyes.

The great tree he stood on earlier had disappeared, along with the entire forest, giving him a very clear view of the horizon. Or the horizon that should have been there by now.

'Strange.', Sharron furrowed his brows. 'Too strange.'

Never was there a Hydra of this magnitude in a millennium, the last one recorded in history being the one Zeus managed to slay. Barely.

To top this, there was never a forest in this area. Never a forest filled with such an unnatural amount of mana, with crystallized dust in the form of mist.

This area was a desolated, rocky land, the soil infertile for farming.

Sharron decided on going straight back home to report this abnormal situation as a top-priority mission. Responsibility comes with great power, after all.

'This is bad, very bad.' he thought gravely, as he eyed the grass starting to grow in a matter of seconds on the previously barren land.

His vision blurred for a split second, as he steadied himself with the shaft of his spear.

"Damn it, out of mana, am I?"

Sharron shook his head, turning away to leave this bizarre land for now.

"Time to head back."

An ivory claw pierced through his chest, a spray of red blood decorating the now rapidly regenerating greenery.

** "****THAT, I AM AFRAID, NOT."**

**How was this? Review and like!**


	7. Chapter 7 Ire of Dun Scaith

**Chapter for this week and maybe next week! Please review and like!**

Son of Scathach

Chapter 7 Ire of Dun Scaith

Sharron gasped, dark blood dripping from the corner of his lips as he looked down at the huge claw piercing through his chest.

"What, are, you?"

He wheezed out, head reeling back to inspect his attacker.

"I AM THE VERY LAST OF MY FOOLISH KIND. I AM THE LAST OF THE ANCIENT DRAGONS, SCHOLAR OF IMMORTALITY, THE MASTER OF CRYSTALS. I AM-"

"You're, Seeth, the Scaleless."

The dragon stopped his speech abruptly, craning his neck in obvious curiosity.

"I WAS NOT AWARE THAT HUMANS STILL KNEW MY NAME."

Sharron shook his head and spat out a mouthful of blood, laughing in a shaky tone.

"Oh, believe me, they know not of you, nor, of the great, ones."

"HOW DID YOU KNEW OF ME?"

Sharron tapped Seeth's claw, scooping a bit of his own blood. The blood, which was now dissolving into thin air, fading into reddish-orange specks, glowing like embers over a bonfire.

"My, blood. My, humanity. My, embers, within. The power, of, the very first, great one."

Seeth grew completely still.

"The blood, echoes within, me. They, talk to me, in my, dreams, every single night. They speak into, my mind, of, stories, never told. They are, my guide, my insight."

What did this human just say? Impossible, how can he even-.

"AH, BUT OF COURSE. I SENSE A BLOOD RITUAL, A _MILLENNIUM_ OLD. SO, YOUR BLOODLINE SOUGHT TO REUNITE THE POWER OF THE FIRST LORD, HIS PRIMAL BLOOD."

"THE FIRST CHAMPION OF THE GREAT ONE."

Sharron smiled, despite the growing pool of blood.

"You catch up fast. But hey, you must be wondering why I am so cooperative, and why I am speaking so fluently all of a sudden."

Seeth looked down at the small human. What can it possibly do?

Wait, isn't the human changing color? A greyish color? How, unless-

"Boo!"

A white blinding flash filled the dragon's sight, robbing its senses for a split second.

And a second was all Sharron needed.

With a metallic SHIIIINK, a crimson flash, a roar filled with agony shook the night.

"DAMN YOU! DAMN YOU! DAMN YOU!"

A deep crimson slash appeared, the line starting from the dragon's left shoulder to end at the base of his right leg. White, sparkling body fluid poured from its wound, the flesh underneath already starting to blacken from the curse the hidden blade apparently carried.

"YYYOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOUUUUUUUUUU!"

Sharron tutted, waggling a finger in front of his face.

"You sorry soul, you demented dragon. You think my mana reserves are that small? You think I was buying time? Seriously?"

Sharron threw his arms in the air dramatically, a sarcastic grin evident even through his mask.

"No wonder you are _scaleless_. No wonder you are _tailless_."

Sharron taunted with clear glee, spinning on his heels, arms open wide open like a ballet dancer.

"How would you _ever_ achieve true immortality, my dear_ scholar_?"

Sharron sneered, tapping his head.

"When you didn't even realize the thing you pierced was just a decoy? A flash-bomb rune combined with a simple illusion rune?"

Sharron finished, back-flipping out the way of an immensely concentrated crystal blast.

"Aww~, are you _seething_~? Get it? Eh? Eh?"

"YOU, YOU, YOU"

Sharron twisted his body and leaned back at a peculiar angle, right hand covering his left eye, left finger pointing at Seeth.

"Your next words shall be: 'You damn imbecile! How dare you lowly kind taunt me!'", Sharron declared in his bizarre position.

"YOU DAMN IMBECILE! HOW DARE YOU LOWLY KIND TAUNT-HUH?"

In that split second, a stygian spear pierced through Seeth's already damaged chest, puncturing a fist-sized hole in its wake.

"You never _learn_, do you, _scholar_?", Sharron purred softly.

"AHH, BUT I DO."

Sharron was by no means, incapable. No, he was an incredible warrior at the age of ten, impressing even the famed god-slayer. But he was still too young, too immature.

He underestimated his foe, thus, his arrogance spelled out his own end.

The dragon Sharron pierced crumbled apart, letting forth a plume of crystallized smoke from its debris.

Sharron fell to the ground face-first, his senses dissipating, his mind blurred, foggy.

'A curse!' he realized, 'Turning my own trick against me, what irony.'

The last thing Sharron heard was the morbid chuckles of Seeth, vibrating in his skull.

"YOU WOULD PROVE TO BE THE INGREDIENT I JUST NEED."

A GRASSLAND NOT SO FAR AWAY

Scathach felt her breath hitch, her blood turn ice-cold.

"No.", she whispered.

She felt her stomach drop, an ill feeling drenching her abdomen.

"No."

Sharron is in danger! A curse of the ancients. Scathach could feel it through her spiritual link with her son. A snowstorm, eating away his embers of life.

"No."

Her mana twisted around her, a snake with its venomous fangs bared, ready to strike.

"Ancient one or not, I shall _fossilize_ you. You dared to harm my son. MY SON."

"An oath, I shall make."

"I gage on this nameth of Dun Scaith. I gage in the names of mine own ancesters, mine own legacy, mine own life."

"Anon, from this very moment, death shalt beest the ultimate mercy thee mongrels shalt crave for."

"For mine own son, I shalt rip ope the heavens. For mine own son, I shalt burneth down hell."

"For mine own son, coequal the gods shalt falleth."

Scathach twirled her spear, piercing trough time and matter. The gate of sky loomed under the pale-blood moon, gears creaking and cranking.

She knew not how she determined her son's exact destination. She knew not how she felt his dread. She knew not where he was taken.

Though, one thing was certain. She knew, her heart shall lead herself to him.

"Open, gate of sky. The time to slay gods is nigh."

The behemoth gates glowed as runes old as time circulated, materializing into a coiled key, its length, one of a broadsword.

She thrust the coiled thing into the small keyhole in the middle of the gate, and twisted it, once, twice, three times.

Every time, countless chains wrapped around the gates shattered, like glass, raining onto the grass and dissolving into wisps of smoke.

On the third time, the gates creaked open with a deafening groan. Murky, shadowy mist pouring through the abyss within like from some broken fortress, cloaking the entire area into darkness.

The gates groaned once more, an earsplitting clang, and only silence remained.

The night breeze blew through the plains, and the moon shone once more.

No speck of green could be seen.

Only rotten grass scattered on the foul-smelling earth, blacker than a starless night sky.

** How was this? **


	8. ABOUT UPDATES

I MIGHT BE UPDATING **'Type-Moon Gamer'**_**and**__** 'Saber Shiro and Master Artoria' for now (ALL FATE FANFICS)**_

* * *

_**Also, Go check out my newest one from my profile page! :**_

_**The name's El-Melloi, James El-Melloi Archibald**_

A tale of a random guy crammed inside the youngest member of House El-Melloi. The journey to restore the house name and honor shall now begin. (Pre-fifth Holy Grail War, Old sister Reines, Stylish Hero-acting)

**Hope you like this new idea! Feel free to drop a comment!**


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